Transmigrated Into A Tragic Romance Fantasy-Chapter 44: Swoosh

Thud-.

Immediately after slapping me, Lumia collapsed onto the ground in despair.

She covered her face, shocked by her own display of violence, assuming a posture similar to the one Erenscia would have in the Academy days.

How did things reach this point?

As a transmigrator, my only wish was to live a good life, chasing a man’s romance.

So, why was the protagonist of this world kneeling before me in despair?

Why do I have the feeling that this was my fault?

Why can’t I just be a simple bystander?

Nothing made sense.

It’s literally inconceivable.

The Heroine depicted in the novel was someone cool-headed, possessing keen insight and rationality, masterfully controlling situations, and steering towards her goal with a natural charisma.

Rub-.

I rubbed my tingling cheek.

In my past life, I had suffered so many slaps that I was supposed to be immune to them.

The irony of the situation was unmistakable, absurd, and exceedingly uncomfortable.

Just like Big Bro Kkwajjijju 1, who jumped around the vast prairie and shouted toward the sky in the American drama LOST.

《Why doesn’t anybody understand me?!》

《All I wanted was one moment of happiness!》

《Why! Why can’t I be happy!?》

For some reason, I had this desperate need to voice my grievances.

Lumia’s despair was not something I wanted or desired.

Besides, I wasn’t a Villain who enjoyed seeing people despairing.

Nor was I a bastard who kicked those who had already fallen in the pit.

But I couldn’t offer a helping hand to her either, since I had managed to avoid every single bait thrown at me till now.

It was to break the chains and run across the field, not an idiotic refusal to return to the stable.

However,

At the very least, I felt the need to say something.

“......It may be hard for you to believe this, but the Elden of the past no longer exists. The Elden who tormented you has been erased. And he will never come back.”

Possession.

Despite this being the truth, I had no doubt that people would dismiss my explanations as nonsense or as a wastrel’s attempt to shrink from his responsibilities.

Or even worse, they might misinterpret this as me mocking the Grand Ducal Betrothal.

That’s why I cannot reveal the truth.

Lumia lowered her hands from her face and lifted her head.

That face was as pale as those of Deron and Blund.

“So please, don’t let the actions of a Villain long gone haunt you anymore.”

I prayed that she wouldn’t be trapped in a cycle of vengeance and misery.

“Do not let your misery cloud and twist the challenge you impose on the world.”

I hoped that the girl who had suffered under a terrible curse for all her life, wouldn’t tarnish her name now that she had finally stepped into the light.

“For I simply wish for your happiness, My Duchess.”

And with those words, I conveyed my most sincere feelings.

That was the end of it.

Even though I had declared my withdrawal, I still ‘participated’ in the contest to fulfill my minimum obligations.

That’s why I hoped that my presence wouldn’t derail the protagonist’s path.

And of course, another reason for doing all of this was to guarantee a peaceful Culinary Journey.

But now that my duties were fulfilled, and my honest feelings were conveyed, I had enough reasons to leave.

Above all,

It’s only right for me to stay away.

Like water and oil don’t mix, Lumia and I were simply not meant to be together.

My presence would be akin to someone throwing oil into Lumia’s flames of revenge.

If being together only sparked such unnecessary conflicts, bringing unilateral damages to one side, then it was only right for the other party to step away.

“Then, I shall take my leave.”

I bowed deeply toward the still-collapsed woman.

Despite her slapping me, despite her trying to take away my freedom, I couldn’t muster the will to disdain or hate her.

After all, Lumia was also a victim of this Tragic Romance Fantasy.

Thus, with heartfelt respect, I offered what would be my last greeting.

I lifted my head.

Lumia’s face was painted in a mixture of despair and frustration.

While also carrying a hint of thoughtfulness.

What could she be thinking now?

Perhaps she was finally casting away her obsession with this simple bystander?

Was she finally stepping away from her thirst for revenge?

Well, at least I hoped it would be something like that as I moved forward.

But,

“...You...Why did you help that fallen maid? That’s not like you.”

Lumia’s voice echoed from behind me.

Since her question was somewhat unexpected, I had to spend some time processing it.

After my transmigration, there was only one incident where I helped a ‘fallen’ maid.

A maid who had twisted her ankle after bumping into me around a corner.

She screamed for help, pleading for anyone to come and save her.

In the original novel, I remember reading the fact that only a single maid served Lumia.

That’s why she seemed so familiar......

“So that maid was your handmaiden.”

And it seems that she broke our little agreement.

Well, honestly, at this point I didn’t care about it.

“......You really didn’t know.”

“Indeed.”

“But why did you help Marien? You’re someone who would watch the suffering of others while mocking them.”

“I helped her because it was my fault she got hurt.”

For a modern person, such reasoning was obvious.

Though, for someone in this era, it might be hard to believe.

“......”

And Lumia’s reaction seemed to be proving that fact as no response came.

When I tried to move again, her voice stopped me, as if grabbing my ankles.

“My wounds.”

“...?”

“Why don’t you help me heal the wounds you’ve caused me then? Why do you ignore them...!”

Her tone was akin to a child throwing a tantrum.

Sadly, Elden Raphelion, the person who should have been here to hear that plea was long gone.

“If you need ointment, I shall bring it to you. If you need assistance, I will provide it. However, I cannot accept your proposal.”

With that firm declaration, I walked away.

Her voice didn’t call out to me again.

Her voice didn’t hold my ankles again.

I couldn’t see her face, but with this, I hoped she would be able to direct her focus to those who would stay.

Ultimately, I hoped that by the end of this Grand Ducal Betrothal, she would be free from her past wounds.

So, I left the Grand Hall.

And,

Sseup, at least Big Bro Heungbu got some rice, even though he got bitch slapped. 2

As I left the Grand Hall, I couldn’t contain the immense regret of not even tasting that grilled Wyvern fin that was prepared for me.

**

I would leave the Grand Ducal Betrothal.

While I had bid my farewell to Lumia, it was still too soon to embark on my Culinary Journey.

Rendler had mentioned something to me this morning.

Since the Grand Duke had traveled to the Capital, and his Heir was tasked with suppressing the remnants of the Northern Barbarian tribes, the one in charge of the Grand Ducal Betrothal was now Gelwood.

Now It was the time to use the cards I had accumulated, so my first destination would be the annex, where some of those cards resided.

“Let’s go, Rachel.”

However, Rachel, who had been waiting for me outside the Grand Hall, had a surprised look on her face.

“What is it?”

“...Did you get hit?”

“Ah.”

Since my cheek had stopped stinging, I thought the slap wouldn’t have left a mark, but it appears that it did.

I casually stroked my cheek while I answered her.

“Well, something happened. But it’s nothing serious.”

“You are bleeding.”

“What?”

I looked at my hand.

...It was stained with blood.

Her fingernails might have scratched me.

Of course, a wound like this was a small price to pay for my freedom.

“Hm-. It seems the Duchess’ nails were quite long.”

I chuckled at that and was about to head to the annex when Rachel pulled something out of her coat pocket and handed it to me.

It was a thin cylinder made of iron.

“?”

“Use this.”

“And what is this?”

“An ointment. It’s highly effective for healing wounds. It even prevents scars from forming.”

Ah.

I had always wondered why Rachel didn’t have a single scar on her face despite having lived a life rougher than anyone else.

But now I knew it was because of this high-grade ointment.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

I quickly opened the lid,

The ointment was a murky white paste.

I scooped some with my index finger and applied it on my cheek.

Swoosh.

But it seemed that Rachel wasn’t satisfied.

“What now?”

“You’re putting in the wrong spot. You need to apply it a bit higher.”

Hmm, I see.

Scooping some more, I applied it a bit higher.

And once again, Rachel seemed unsatisfied.

“Why?”

“A bit higher?”

Scoop!

Taking a big scoop with my finger, I applied it higher up.

Rachel’s expression remained unchanged.

“...You’ve gone too high.”

“Ah.”

Plump! As I reached to dab more ointment with my index finger, Rachel snatched it away.

My descending index finger had no choice but to poke my innocent palm instead.

“Give it to me.”

She had already taken it.

“...Is it expensive?”

“I will apply it for you.”

It must be expensive.

Indeed, in a medieval era when medicine was not advanced, an ointment that left no scars would certainly be costly.

I wiped my index finger on my clothes as I tilted my head forward.

Rachel stepped closer.

She then began to apply the ointment on my cheek.

It was the first time I had ever felt the touch of a woman, but for Lee Jun-Woo, such a warm embrace was a distant dream he clung to each lonely night.

That must have been why,

I found myself staring intently at her.

Watching as she applied the ointment, much like a caring older sister would.

“.........W-Why are you staring at me like that?”

Ah,

Before I realized it,

Rachel had already applied the ointment and quickly moved away as I awkwardly rubbed the spot she touched and said,

“Wait a second. There were several times I was beaten hard enough to bleed...And you’ve been hoarding this good stuff all for yourself? My, what a stingy teacher I have.”

It was a joke.

Since the original Elden had been a battle maniac, there were large scars on his fists and a thin scar on his chin.

And if I looked at his memories for a bit, there were several moments before this Betrothal Contest, where Elden had fought hard enough to bleed.

Rachel had always been there, but she had never offered this ointment.

She didn’t even acknowledge those wounds.

“......”

However,

Rachel seemed to struggle to respond to my casual joke as a faint blush colored her face.

“I-I’ll be going ahead.”

She stuttered and then led the way.

But,

I,

Didn’t tell her where we were going?

Why was she turning right? Is she going to the training grounds?

Isn’t it a little too late for training?

As I quickly ran towards Rachel, who was confidently stomping in the wrong direction,

“Rachel? We’re going to the annex.”

Wooosh-!

The Knight made a sharp turn, heading towards the annex.

1. Nickname for the Korean Dude in Lost, Imma link em youtube video for da scene2. A sitcom/folk tale character who is poor but kind. This name is often used to act out comedic moments/roleplay.